


P is for Power Ballad

by coolbyrne



Series: The Alphabet Series [16]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: A car ride becomes a musical trip down memory lane. Hints of Slibbs
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: The Alphabet Series [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909126
Comments: 28
Kudos: 73





	P is for Power Ballad

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure this isn't exactly what my wife envisioned when she first gave me the prompt, but I hope it's catchy. :) 
> 
> When Gibbs refers to 'Janis', he means Janis Joplin.

Though she'd never admit it out loud, her favourite pairing was him and Ellie. Not that she had anything against Tim or Nick- both were magnetic people in their own right with their own special relationship with Gibbs. But none was more special than Gibbs and Bishop, the not-so-secret surrogate daughter to the man who still had a hole in his heart for his real one. So while she'd always jump at the chance to tag along to a long-distance interrogation, she was even more excited when the duo she was pairing up with was them. She even relinquished the passenger's seat in order to get a better view and rolled her eyes at the theory he gave Bishop.

"She snores if the ride's too long."

The comment got him a smack on the shoulder from the back seat. "Shut up, I do not." Her objection seemed to fall on deaf ears because Ellie just beamed at Gibbs and he smirked. Their alliance was short-lived, however, when they both reached for the radio at the same time.

"No way," Bishop said, shaking her head. "We had to listen to NPR for 3 hours the last time. I learned way more about the migration habits of rainbow trout than I ever needed to know."

Gibbs slid her a look. "You listened to that?"

"Yeah," she replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then the deeper meaning of the question hit her brain. "Wait. Are you telling me you didn't?"

He used the back of the passenger seat to look over his shoulder as he reversed the car. "Just needed background noise to drown out Torres."

The memory came back to Ellie in a smile. "The cashmere sweater."

"Didn't need to hear about the pedigree of the damn sweater. Again." Jack's smile softened the frown line between his eyes and this time, his smirk was for her.

Bishop conceded the point with a curt shrug. "Well, we don't have to worry about the Nick Torres Fashion Show, so we're all saved the NPR experience." She plugged a cord into her phone, then the stereo. "Stop," she said, catching Gibbs' grimace. "You'll like it. Or you'll just have to pretend you like it."

Only Bishop could get away with being that demanding of him, and even she must've known it because she gave him a raised eyebrow as if to say, 'Well?'

"It better not be 'new' country," was all he said as they pulled out of the Yard.

…..

"Would've preferred the new country," he said, an hour into the trip. Jack leaned forward and gave him another smack on the shoulder. "Ow."

"Don't be a baby," she replied without mercy.

Bishop reached back for a fist bump. "Besides, I saw you tapping your thumb when that Whitesnake song came on."

Gibbs pretended to concentrate on the road, but Jack had no problem calling him on the observation. "That had more to do with Tawny Kitaen than the song." Seeing Ellie's raised eyebrow, she grinned. "Google the video when we get back."

Bishop nodded. "Ah, that explains why my brothers were such big fans."

The comment answered a few questions. "I _was_ wondering," Jack said. "Time frame's a bit out of your bracket."

"Yeah. I was 2 when this came out." In unison, Jack and Gibbs closed their eyes at the inadvertent reminder. Bishop caught the reactions and sheepishly apologized. "Sorry."

She placed a forgiving hand on Ellie's shoulder. "Don't be. Those were some of the best years of my life. I was 17."

The wistfulness perked up Gibbs' attention. When she saw him glance in the rearview mirror, her mouth twitched in amusement. "I was _not_ into Whitesnake," she said to his reflection. "Wasn't into guys who used more hairspray than I did, I guess. My memory of Tawny was Rhonda Westbrook and her boyfriend trying to re-enact the video. She slid off the hood of his Chevy Cavalier and broke her collarbone."

Gibbs chuckled and Bishop winced. "Ouch." Then she asked, "So what were you into, Jack?"

If she had his interest before, she had his rapt attention now, and she let him know she was entirely aware by offering a quick wink. 

"I was more into the Material Girl."

Bishop turned to Gibbs. "That's Madonna." She received a slow, deadly blink as a reply. "What? I didn't know if you knew."

"I was young once, ya know."

Jack saw Ellie's eyes widen and laughed at the head shake. "Don't believe him," she told her. "He came out of the womb a fully formed Marine."

He looked in the mirror again and grinned. "Oo-rah."

"That's too bad," Bishop lamented. "I was starting to picture you with a mullet."

Understanding the passage of time better than the agent a decade younger, Jack mischievously asked, "Did you have a 70s moustache?"

"Gonna be a long walk back for you ladies."

His growl rolled off their backs and they shared a warm wink between them.

…..

The interview got them the information they needed, and Gibbs rewarded them by swinging by an ice cream place on the way back. Now, an hour into the return trip, Bishop slumped against the back window, mouth open, proving who the real snorer was in the group. The sun had set 30 minutes prior, wrapping the vehicle in a comforting dark. Gibbs' attention was focused on the road and Jack had shifted in her seat to take advantage of the opportunity to look at him. She wondered what he looked like as a younger man, because while softness and silver had crept up in his face, the profile was strong and angular and the eyes, even in the dark, were piercing blue. His fingers lazily guided the steering wheel, belying a history of tragedy and life-changing decisions, chapters of love and craftsmanship in his hands. She was just beginning to curl into the image when he broke the silence.

"So. Madonna."

Her mouth dropped at his smirk. "You've been holding on to that salacious thought this entire time, haven't you?" When his eyebrow arched up in a playful reply, she slapped his shoulder. "With your daughter in the back seat?" she whispered, feigning shock. 

"Why do you think I took her for ice cream?" His head jerked over his shoulder. The light snore softly filled the silence. "Works every time."

She adopted his deadpan tone in her whisper. "You're so bad." His chuckle was low, denying nothing, pulling the magnetic tension between them deliciously taut. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and found the cord Bishop had used earlier in the day, and seeing his side-eye, she gave him the same assurance the younger agent had given. "You'll like it. Or you'll just have to pretend you like it." She knew he recognized the words by the way his eyes widened and a huff escaped his lips. "That's what I thought." The screen illuminated and she scrolled through the music. "Don't worry, there's nothing on here that isn't on that 8-track in your truck." A familiar song wafted from her phone, and based on his expression, she was right. "Told you."

He deflected her accuracy by saying, "Cassette player."

She grinned as she settled back into the seat. "Maybe I'll make you a mix tape one day." His laugh filled her heart. "Maybe dig out those lace gloves and the oversized crucifix." 

The Madonna reference and its sly allusion caught his attention. "My daughter's in the back seat," he dryly chastised. 

…..

" _Don't go breaking my heart_ -" She held out an imaginary microphone under his lips and pouted when he didn't do his part. "I know you know this one. Hell, you've known them all." He arched his eyebrow and she said, "Your lips have been moving the entire time." Victorious, she nodded to the beat with a grin. "You _did_ have a 70s moustache, didn't you?" His smirk gave it away and she clapped. "I knew it." Tilting her chin down conspiratorially, she offered, "Forget the lace gloves- if I find my disco roller skates, will you grow the moustache?"

Though she had slept through the last 2 hours like a log, the word was like an alarm to the agent in the back seat. Sitting upright, Bishop blurted, "No moustache!"

"Go back to sleep," Gibbs ordered.

She settled back into her seat, but not before warning Jack, "He grew one before I was there. Tim's got pictures. Like an evil Cowboy Gibbs." The last words were mumbled as she drifted back to sleep.

Jack's lips twitched in amusement. Leaning forward to get a good look at him, she pondered the description. "An evil Cowboy Gibbs, huh?" 

He hid his own amusement by deflection. Nudging his attention to the music, he said, "You're up, Janis."

…..

Rather than return to the Yard, Gibbs dropped Bishop off outside her apartment with the promise of picking her up in the morning, and it wasn’t until they were in his driveway that Jack realized, "I guess I'm staying over?"

He looked around, as if recognizing the surroundings -and the implications- for the first time. Bringing her home was not his original intent but rather an action his treacherous subconscious tricked him into doing. He cleared his throat as a way to cover the realization. "Figured that's why ya left a bag."

"You just like the way I make your coffee in the morning."

She wasn't wrong and he couldn’t explain why, at least not in a way he was ready to put into words. And he definitely wasn't ready to admit that maybe it was less about the coffee and more about her standing in his kitchen at 8 in the morning in sweatpants and T-shirt, steadfastly refusing to do anything more before she had her first cup. He anticipated the vision of her, sleep-tousled and pre-coffee glare, and he grinned. 

She mistook his reaction as a response to her theory. "I knew it!" she crowed, unclipping her seat belt and disconnecting her phone from the stereo. Tilting the cell back and forth, she vowed, "We'll return to this in the morning."

"You threatenin' me, Sloane?" Her wink and exit from the car was halted when he dropped a cryptic, "One month."

Her hand halted on the door. "One month?"

He lifted himself out of his seat and bent his head back into the car. "To find your roller skates." He closed the door behind him, but it barely muffled her joy as she put two and two together.

"Evil Cowboy Gibbs!"

He shook his head and jogged the steps up to the house.

…..

-end


End file.
